Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
The honeybee didn’t judge him for his mortification. It was cycle after cycle, season after season, one thing after another with very little breathing room to adjust or recover from the latest debacle, before one more emerged. Before something else reared its ugly head, and Sunjata managed to find himself right in the center of it all. In another moment, in another lifetime, Melita might have considered the option that her uncle could be a good father, or give some worth, some mettle, to the notion. Instead, all she could wonder for the instant was if all of this was going to continue billowing and unfurling apart. “I love him too, but at some point he has to…,” what exactly she’s not really sure. Her hands flailed upwards, as if that explained everything. Stop? Breathe? Chill out? Process more than one thought?
The for now simmered and settled there, in between, and the frown loosened into a finely drawn portrait of frustration and wonder, curling and coiling in her eyes as she stared down at the water. How simple, how easy, it would be to meander out into the rivulet and stand upon its top, race down the shorelines, and not yield, not answer the question. “I have a feeling I already have.” A promise once laden with forthrightness and conviction – layers upon layers of bounding towards the ragged herald.
But hadn’t Nate too, in the end?
The for now simmered and settled there, in between, and the frown loosened into a finely drawn portrait of frustration and wonder, curling and coiling in her eyes as she stared down at the water. How simple, how easy, it would be to meander out into the rivulet and stand upon its top, race down the shorelines, and not yield, not answer the question. “I have a feeling I already have.” A promise once laden with forthrightness and conviction – layers upon layers of bounding towards the ragged herald.
But hadn’t Nate too, in the end?
Melita
